


Sayonara

by DirtyHand



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Porn, Break up sex, I didn't know angst and porn was a tag, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 09:29:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8051089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DirtyHand/pseuds/DirtyHand
Summary: Goodbye.





	Sayonara

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short random drabble fueled by all the angst in the discord sin bin.

Hanzo closes his eyes and runs his hands down Jesse's body. The way his shoulders flex in response to his touches, tightening as his fingers dance along the skin. The neck is strong but vulnerable. The hair is nearly shoulder length, surprisingly soft. The throat is long and bare. The chest is hairy and broad. The nipples are sensitive and bring pathetic whimpers when touched. The ribs expand and collapse in time with his heavy pants. The waist is slender with a slight hint of love handles. Hanzo memorizes them, imprinting whatever he could into his mind, these minute details that only he had the right to know.  These discoveries are his, his alone. 

 

_Were._

 

The thought that Jesse will share them with another soul drives a pang of sorrow into Hanzo's chest, and he clenches around him.  The thick length pulses against his prostate in response and Jesse moans into his ear. Hanzo devours those slutty sounds greedily, the sounds that Jesse makes  _for him_ , and he squeezes again.

 

His focus turns to his hole and the thick, satisfying heat inside him:  Jesse is thrusting steadily,but the pace is teasingly slow: a rhythm that the cowboy knows drives Hanzo crazy. Does this rhythm make Jesse feel good too? What will his own rhythm be if he wasn't being considerate for Hanzo, like he always is? Is he holding back now like Hanzo is, because he doesnt want it to end as well? Is he savouring every second, memorizing every detail? he clenches again at the ache that flutters in his stomach. 

 

And Hanzo knows that his hole will remember the shape and heat of Jesse's length more than his brain could. He knows that he will not chance across someone as endowed as the cowboy easily, and even if he does, he will not beg for them like the way he does Jesse's.  His body will remember the touches, the kisses, the warmth, and he knows for the next few months (or years) he will yearn for the same cock that brought him into the oblivion he is now.  He will not be satisfied from other replacements,  _if there are replacements,_ because those replacements are not Jesse McCree.

 

 _They may fill his empty hole, but they cannot fill his empty heart._   And before he can stop himself, he draws Jesse closer, kissing and sucking at his neck and leaving a hickie that will probably be gone next week.

 

As if prompted by Hanzo's possessive act, urged on by the bruise and the temporariness of it, and spurred by the sting that comes, strangely, not from the skin but from his chest, Jesse grunts and thrusts upwards angrily.  A retaliation angled just right to hit painfully hard at Hanzo's prostate, and Hanzo screams - _fuck, JESSE_  - and the sound of his name being moaned as Hanzo came, his name being the sound on his lips in their last orgasm together, sends McCree into the darkness of oblivion.  He comes hard, marking Hanzo's insides with his fluids, whimpering Hanzo's name weakly and he collapses onto Hanzo's chest, his head lying on the thick shoulder, and teary eyes find themselves staring into the dragon tattoo whose patterns he knows by heart and will never forget.

 

And Hanzo's heart breaks as he feels Jesse unsheathing. He clenches instinctively, and for a moment Jesse pauses. But then, his spent cock growing soft, it slips out.

 

And Hanzo accepts his fate. He closes his eyes and a single tear falls down his cheek, unable to look at those chocolate brown eyes the colour of which matches Jesse's hair.  Just like his hole cannot keep his spent cock, Hanzo Shimada cannot keep Jesse McCree, no matter how hard he holds him.

 

_Sayonara, my huckleberry._


End file.
